... Ah. I see. So, what I'm doing would be fine if it were done to bad people. Not good people. Good people don't deserve this.
[smiles]
And you two. Neither of you could be categorized as [glances at Steve] "unsavory." Or as a [glances at Pratt] "murdering psycho." No, of course not. You're good people. Of course.
No. I didn't-- [But he kind of meant it, didn't he?] I've done some bad things too. But I'm willing to stay. And-- if I have to get hurt to keep this ship and the people on it alive then I'd be okay with it.
[After all he's ultimately. Just a figment of Marc's imagination. He's not real. It's a sacrifice he's willing to make.]
[Snort] No. I'm a murdering psychopath and a Thunderdome would be extremely cool. Like I could get my shovel launcher back, that would be rad as fuck. Versus someone with a chainsaw on a stick like one of those pole-cats. There could be bets and scoreboards and shit.
[He is now invested in this. This is on the list as a thing he wants, right below the waterslide.
Right right. See? Steven has that whole noble sacrifice thing going on. That's gotta be worth at least four people plotting to shoot you and inevitably missing.
Oh, it's not even close. I'm sure the idea makes you feel better, though.
[snorts] There is no chance for noble sacrifice here. No greater cause. No deeper meaning. You will not stay here and suffer because you deserve it, and you will not leave here because you don't. None of you will. You're all kept here by the same force that brought you: pure, perfect chance. That's all there is.
So... you didn't choose to bring us here? It was all-- just luck?
What happens if you send us all back? Will we-- even go back to where and when we were before? That-- that's not fair. Marc has a wife... and Maeve has a daughter. You can't.
[ He'd kinda been under the impression the Captain was up in the bridge cackling maniacally while concocting devious schemes, so it's sort of a let down that it's all sporadic and pointless.]
We're all just RNG lootboxes huh. And you keep hoping for a mythic pull.
... [almost to himself] Hm, so speaking entirely in inscrutable media references is annoying...
[okay attention back to them.]
I could "send you back" [does airquotes] at any time. Technically, there is nothing to send you back to, because you never truly left. Of course, the version of you that exists here would cease to exist entirely. [shrugs] I've always felt that when passengers refer to themselves in this context, they really mean that one. It makes it easier to just say "you can't go back."
[Pratt, you're so not helping right now! Luckily or unluckily, Steven is too confused to kick him gently to try and get him to focus.]
We never left? [What does that even mean?] You mean-- there's-- we're still there, just chugging along, and. A 'version' of us got split off from that-- reality or timeline or wha'ever and pulled into this place?
[That's mad. And now people are going to think that Steven is a clone of a clone of a clone.]
So. We're not even-- the real us? [Somewhere in that mind palace that looks like Marc's asylum, Steven is doing a psyduck impression. And he's worrying about the last person the Captain tried to send back. What happened to them? Does the Captain even know?]
Did you-- create this. Splintered version of us then? Or did 'the same force that brought us' here bring you here? Is this boat even yours or are you just. Salaried.
[Pratt huffs because that was an excellent question thank you, and he will hold to it because Steven just asked...] Salaried?
[Okay they need to get their talking points back aligned here. Pratt is fully capable of not being a nerd for twenty minutes. He's got this. ]
Ohhhhh. We're copies. Like from a point in the timeline. Huh. Alright that makes sense. [To Pratt anyway, Steven looks like he might be having an existential crisis that will cause a thermal detonator galaxy brain moment.]
It's cool man, we're the real us, for this version of us. They're there, we're here. [Please don't pass out.] But yeah, what he said, is this all your creation? Or you stuck here like us?
[Pratt is just itching to bring up the waterslide.]
You're as real as you think you are. Not any more or less real than any other version of you - and there are as many of those as there are stars in the sky...
[a pause, then he frowns, crossing his arms in front of himself.]
What is with this... strange desire for there to be some power greater than me involved here? I already have absolute control over you, something I have displayed numerous times before. Do you want there to be more?
[Steven shrinks back a bit, lowering his gaze, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wrings his hands and shakes his head.]
I just. [It's a design flaw of his. Maybe Marc made him this way or maybe this is just how Steven turned out. He always wants to see the best in people, even when he's confronted by the cold, hard truth that most people are deeply flawed.] I thought you could be a better man. [Random cruelty he can process better than someone wanting to torment people like this.] I-- hoped you were. I suppose.
[The only thing he could think of that might appease the Captain is to trade the people on board for bringing on even more people who want to go home. That won't do. Steven needs time to process all this... versioning and see what kind of bargaining chips he should bring to the table next time. There must be something else going on because if he really wanted a boat full of people who want to leave, he should be running Serena Guantanamo Bay, locking them up in cold, dark, tiny little cells, starving and beating them and unleashing a thousand wasps on them every night. Instead it's comfortable and the food is nice and the company is not too bad.]
Pratt, let's just. Go. [It's now or never for that waterslide, mate.]
Nah, it's not that we want something more than uh.. you. [Wow that sounds fucking weird now that he's said it out loud.] Just trying to understand more, not like there was one of those blurbs on the back of a room service menu telling us all about how this shit works.
Aight aight. Yeah. Cool. [He has more things to ask about. LIKE THE WATERSLIDE. But he does agree that they've probably already overstayed their welcome so best to head out before they make shit worse somehow.] Thanks for the info tho, that's solid of you.
[He hesitates, but this is probably the worst time to request something now that they've awkwardly kinda insulted him unintentionally. And if the guy won't take a super rare Pokémon card in trade there's probably nothing Pratt has he'd want. Okay, time to regroup and Operation: Waterslide can resume in the future.]
Good chat. We'll uh.. get to being all resentful and shit and making sure the lights keep shining.
Hm... Well, that was your first mistake, wasn't it. [his attention turns fully to the weakest link, smiling.] You think of me as human, because that's how I look to you at this moment. And so, you expect me to act the way humans do. But, I'm not. And I don't.
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[smiles]
And you two. Neither of you could be categorized as [glances at Steve] "unsavory." Or as a [glances at Pratt] "murdering psycho." No, of course not. You're good people. Of course.
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[After all he's ultimately. Just a figment of Marc's imagination. He's not real. It's a sacrifice he's willing to make.]
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[He is now invested in this. This is on the list as a thing he wants, right below the waterslide.
Okay he's kinda getting carried away and forgetting why they're here. Focus.]
Right right. See? Steven has that whole noble sacrifice thing going on. That's gotta be worth at least four people plotting to shoot you and inevitably missing.
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[snorts] There is no chance for noble sacrifice here. No greater cause. No deeper meaning. You will not stay here and suffer because you deserve it, and you will not leave here because you don't. None of you will. You're all kept here by the same force that brought you: pure, perfect chance. That's all there is.
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What happens if you send us all back? Will we-- even go back to where and when we were before? That-- that's not fair. Marc has a wife... and Maeve has a daughter. You can't.
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It's just fucking... random? Seriously?
[ He'd kinda been under the impression the Captain was up in the bridge cackling maniacally while concocting devious schemes, so it's sort of a let down that it's all sporadic and pointless.]
We're all just RNG lootboxes huh. And you keep hoping for a mythic pull.
Have you gotten one yet?
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[okay attention back to them.]
I could "send you back" [does airquotes] at any time. Technically, there is nothing to send you back to, because you never truly left. Of course, the version of you that exists here would cease to exist entirely. [shrugs] I've always felt that when passengers refer to themselves in this context, they really mean that one. It makes it easier to just say "you can't go back."
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We never left? [What does that even mean?] You mean-- there's-- we're still there, just chugging along, and. A 'version' of us got split off from that-- reality or timeline or wha'ever and pulled into this place?
[That's mad. And now people are going to think that Steven is a clone of a clone of a clone.]
So. We're not even-- the real us? [Somewhere in that mind palace that looks like Marc's asylum, Steven is doing a psyduck impression. And he's worrying about the last person the Captain tried to send back. What happened to them? Does the Captain even know?]
Did you-- create this. Splintered version of us then? Or did 'the same force that brought us' here bring you here? Is this boat even yours or are you just. Salaried.
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[Okay they need to get their talking points back aligned here. Pratt is fully capable of not being a nerd for twenty minutes. He's got this. ]
Ohhhhh. We're copies. Like from a point in the timeline. Huh. Alright that makes sense. [To Pratt anyway, Steven looks like he might be having an existential crisis that will cause a thermal detonator galaxy brain moment.]
It's cool man, we're the real us, for this version of us. They're there, we're here. [Please don't pass out.] But yeah, what he said, is this all your creation? Or you stuck here like us?
[Pratt is just itching to bring up the waterslide.]
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[a pause, then he frowns, crossing his arms in front of himself.]
What is with this... strange desire for there to be some power greater than me involved here? I already have absolute control over you, something I have displayed numerous times before. Do you want there to be more?
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I just. [It's a design flaw of his. Maybe Marc made him this way or maybe this is just how Steven turned out. He always wants to see the best in people, even when he's confronted by the cold, hard truth that most people are deeply flawed.] I thought you could be a better man. [Random cruelty he can process better than someone wanting to torment people like this.] I-- hoped you were. I suppose.
[The only thing he could think of that might appease the Captain is to trade the people on board for bringing on even more people who want to go home. That won't do. Steven needs time to process all this... versioning and see what kind of bargaining chips he should bring to the table next time. There must be something else going on because if he really wanted a boat full of people who want to leave, he should be running Serena Guantanamo Bay, locking them up in cold, dark, tiny little cells, starving and beating them and unleashing a thousand wasps on them every night. Instead it's comfortable and the food is nice and the company is not too bad.]
Pratt, let's just. Go. [It's now or never for that waterslide, mate.]
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Aight aight. Yeah. Cool. [He has more things to ask about. LIKE THE WATERSLIDE. But he does agree that they've probably already overstayed their welcome so best to head out before they make shit worse somehow.] Thanks for the info tho, that's solid of you.
[He hesitates, but this is probably the worst time to request something now that they've awkwardly kinda insulted him unintentionally. And if the guy won't take a super rare Pokémon card in trade there's probably nothing Pratt has he'd want. Okay, time to regroup and Operation: Waterslide can resume in the future.]
Good chat. We'll uh.. get to being all resentful and shit and making sure the lights keep shining.
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[cocks head]
I can do no wrong, for I do not know what it is.